Mr Thorne Novels & Stories

I faked a falsetto in amusement. "Same old ginger." Ralyne rolled her eyes as she led the way into the woody forest. "Any changes with Philip?" I questioned while following her lead. "No," she kicked a pebble out of the way and it burst into a hundred pieces as it hit a tree "he's still grumpy, the last healer we found didn't say anything useful so his mood has worsened, understandable if you ask me." Ralyne calmly spoke like we were talking about food.

I asked myself as jane and I left him with simran in the kitchen. "I hope am not into him". I said as he joined us to watch the movie.... After all he is my best friend's brother and he doesn't seem to be the one who will fall in love because of his facial expression. And cold look even though he's good looking with body of a model figure. I barely ever see him smile except this time when he looked at me as Simran helped him clean his nose. He seems like a kind person at the same time fearless. He's a billionaire and I mostly heard they never have time to waste .

One of Rosie’s guards strode in, chest heaving, his cloak stained with dust and blood. “Alpha,” he said, bowing to her, ignoring me entirely. “A rider has arrived from Thorns. A messenger. Urgent seal.” Rosie stood at once. “Where?” “In the courtyard, my lady.” She turned to me. “You’ll forgive me, Alpha Emily. But if you don’t mind—” “Of course,” I said, rising with her. “I’ll accompany you.” Together, we crossed the courtyard, the night air thick with frost and suspicion. A rider knelt beside the fountain, clutching a scroll sealed in black wax—Rosie’s seal.

"you're awake?" At this moment, a cold voice suddenly sounded beside the bed. The voice sounded somewhat familiar. She frowned and found a tall, feminine and handsome man standing beside the bed. This man she recognized was Richard Gray, the Grays son. The Grays and the Smiths are life friends. Richard Gray has great accomplishments in medicine. After his studies, he became the Smiths' personal doctor. He and James Smith are also good friends and brothers. She played with Richard Gray when she was younger, but like James Smith, Richard Gray didn't like her either.

Kael Thorne stepped out, and I forgot how to breathe. He was somehow even more intimidating in person than in my memories. Tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a navy suit that probably cost more than my car, with dark hair that looked like he’d barely bothered to comb it. But it was his eyes—those steel gray eyes—that made my stomach do flips. He walked past Margaret’s desk without acknowledging either of us, heading straight for his office. “Mr. Thorne, this is—” Margaret started. “I know who she is.” His voice was cold, clipped.

Confrontation at the Breaking Point Heavy rain lashed the quiet hills of Norfolk, forming a curtain of water that blurred all visibility along the narrow track leading to the Thorne family’s secluded safehouse. Inside the old stone‑walled building, the scent of burning wood from the fireplace could not dispel the frozen tension that hung in the air. Mavric Thorne sat in a large wooden chair, his body still wrapped in post‑operative bandages, yet his eyes had already regained that sharp gleam of a predator hungry for retribution.

She wiped it away with the back of her hand, but it just spread it around more, making her lips look even shinier and fuller. We had been best friends since middle school, sharing everything from clothes to late-night talks, and lately, when we hung out or crashed at each other’s places, there was this tension between us that I could not ignore, like we were both waiting for something to happen but neither of us wanted to say it out loud. Mr. Thorne cleared his throat loudly and stood up, stretching his arms high above his head, which made his shirt pull up and expose a strip of his flat, tanned stomach from all the manual work he did around the house.

I shot him a glare, but he ignored it and dropped into the chair opposite me, swinging one leg over the other. “So,” he said, smirking again, “should I keep you company until your man comes back, or are you going to pretend you want to be alone?” And that was exactly where I stopped talking. “I thought your Beta maintained celibacy. And besides, I thought he was the non romantic, emotionally constipated type,” Thorne said. “Did he prove otherwise?” I replied, eyes still fixed on the screen like it owed me answers. “Oh, he proved something,” Thorne said. “I just saw him with a lady outside. Very sexy. Red hair. Her face was like a goddess. I’m guessing she owns the car I bumped into at the ca

The bare s‍kin of her back was warm⁠ an‌d s‍mooth beneath his pa‌lm, a point o⁠f searing contact in‍ the cool, air-conditione‍d room. ‍Duri‌ng a brief lull near a mas‌sive, dark Rothko, an older gent‍leman, Gregory Thorn‌e—the patriarch o‌f t⁠he⁠ rival family—⁠appr‍oached. His s⁠mile was a razor‌ b‍lade.

Chapter 23 "Uncle Julian! You look like James Bond, but with better hair." Julian Thorne threw his head back and laughed, the sound warm and rich, filling the foyer of the Frost Estate. He was a devastatingly handsome man, with tousled golden-brown hair, warm hazel eyes, and a smile that had graced the covers of Forbes and GQ alike. As the CEO of Thorne Global, he was Ethan Cole’s only true rival in the tech sector.